Forever Thine
by cruzadrr
Summary: The Third Quarter Quell never takes place and Peeta, Katniss and their entire crew from the Capitol are forced to flee into the woods. Although safe from horrors of the Hunger Games, surviving in the forests may prove to be even more challenging than in the arena. Yet no matter the difficulties, Peeta's love for Katniss will forever prevail. POV of Peeta.
1. Chapter 1

_This is my first ever attempt at fanfiction and it's one that has been eating away at me for ages. So here we go. Thank you for reading and above else, I hope you enjoy._

_I don't own any of the characters, they belong the author of The Hunger Games Trilogy, the wonderful Suzanne Collins._

**Chapter One**

I'm running. Each time my left leg lands, a pain shoots from my upper thigh to the tips of my toes. Something is not quite right about this, but I can't put my finger on it.

It's not important now, anyway. Never mind the pain, I simply have to keep running. It feels as if my legs have weights attached to them and the entire forest around me seems to stretch further away the more I try to focus on moving forward.

But I cannot stop, because she's screaming. I have to find her and protect her from whatever is causing her pain.

''Katniss!'' I call out, because I can't help it. The screams become raw, I can hear blood gurgling in her throat. Panic grips me and I try to run faster, but the pain in my leg is slowing me down and as I look down on it, I see the entire left side of my pants soaked in blood. Something still seems off about it.

There are no screams now. Why is it quiet? Suddenly all I need is just to hear her scream. Just once, Katniss, for me. Let me know you're still alive.

But there's nothing.

I see someone lying on the ground about a hundred metres ahead from me and with a sinking feeling I realize it's Katniss.

Suddenly I'm beside her and repeating her name, willing with my whole being for her to open her eyes. But she's not breathing. How could she, with that wide bright red gash running straight across her throat.

I put my hand gently under her head to support it on my jacket. Her hair is drenched in slick blood that's still seeping out of the wound. My throat feels thick and it's hard to push any air through the pipes. All I manage is the broken whisper of her name, pleading her to look at me, to take a breath, to move. Anything to indicate she's still here with me.

Before I can even fully form the thought, I know she's dead. I can feel it in the deepest corners of my soul, in my heart that feels as if it has suddenly turned to ash.

I can't feel my leg anymore and the strangeness of the situation dissolves. It has actually happened. The Hunger Games have taken my life and yet somehow, I'm still breathing. I'm not sure whether my heart is still beating, though. I can't feel it in my chest anymore. My insides just feel hollow.

But a sudden warmth starts to spread across my skin the moment I think about my chest. It feels nice and it confuses me. It is blood? Has someone killed me, as well? Penetrated my heart with a spear, perhaps? I hope so. It certainly feels like I'm losing consciousness. The trees around me appear to have started to melt and my vision is slowly turning black.

I close my eyes and let myself fall.

xXx

When I land on her bed in the train, I keep my eyes closed, because I can feel her pressed against my body. She's breathing. She's here, next to me. Safe.

God, is it even possible to love someone this much? It shouldn't be, it's destructive. And it's about to destroy me.

I suddenly understand why I felt warm in the dream. She's slowly running her palm up and down my chest in a leisurely manner, as if she did it all the time. I try to keep my body relaxed, because I know she will stop the moment she realises I'm no longer asleep. I keep breathing deeply, and it's a good thing, too, because otherwise it would be nearly impossible to remain still under her touch. And I don't dare move, because I know she's doing it without really noticing.

This isn't affectionate, it's merely idleness. I have to remember that.

Still, surely I can afford myself a few moments of getting lost in the dream after waking from a nightmare.

Just as my mind starts moving Katniss's hand along a more dangerous trajectory than merely my chest, I stop myself and slowly open my eyes.

I still don't let on that I'm awake, though, and look at her for a moment.

Her eyes are staring into the darkness, and she seems lost in thought.

I put my hand over hers on my chest and her muscles tense for a second in surprise. She looks up at me and tries to twist her mouth into a smile for my benefit, but I can see her mind had been occupied with dark thoughts just moments before. I remember my nightmare and let out a slow sigh of relief and gently squeeze her hand. Katniss seems to understand. She knows my nightmares primarily revolve around losing her.

''Are you okay?'' she asks.

''I am now,'' I answer. ''Why aren't you asleep?''

''I woke up about an hour ago. Had a nightmare.'' She hesitates for a moment as if wanting to say more, but doesn't. She rests her head back on my shoulder and I kiss the top of her head.

We lay there like this for a while. I revel in every breath that she takes, knowing these are the last moments with her safely in my arms. Soon we'll be thrown back into the arena.

Suddenly, the train jolts and starts slowing down rapidly. We sit up, confused. The rails are screeching and a deafening alarm goes off.

Haymitch bangs on the door and yells, ''Change of plans. Get out, you two!''

Everyone in the train is scuffling around nervously. Cinna, Portia and Katniss' prep team are waiting for instructions from Haymitch, since he seems to be the only one to know what's going on. My own prep team is no-where in sight.

''The Games have been cancelled,'' he says.

For a moment I feel as if a ton of bricks has fallen off my heart, but then he continues, ''Plutarch Heavensbee is dead. Snow figured out his conspiracy against the Capitol.'' Everyone's confusion at that is visible. What conspiracy? Sensing the flow of questions coming on, Haymitch continues hurriedly, ''No time to explain now, we have to get off the train. The Capitol is being evacuated. Rebels from all over the districts are taking over the trains and are arriving in the Capitol by the hundreds, killing civilians and burning down buildings. The Main Station has cut off all train traffic to slow down the rebels. The Peacekeepers are probably on their way here as we speak and if we don't move now, we'll be dead before sunrise.''

''Where do we go?'' Katniss asks.

Haymitch looks at her and smirks.

''To a place very much to your liking, Katniss. To the woods.''

* * *

**I have a lot more prepared, so if you liked this little preface, let me know and I shall deliver ;)**


	2. Chapter 2

_Since this is my first ever fanfiction, and there's actually some interest in it, I decided to upload the next chapter right away. If the interest continues, I'll keep updating regularly, but proabably no more than once/twice a week. _

_Also, forgot to mention this before - this fic is rated M due to violence and (probably) explicit sexual content coming up in later chapters. So if you're okay with that - please continue. Otherwise, this fic is probably not for you. _

_Thank you for reading!_

* * *

**Chapter Two**

To the woods. With a group of nine people.

_'Exactly how drunk is he right now?'_ I think.

The Capitol is on high alert, which means anyone they catch will likely be shot on sight. How are nine people supposed to remain hidden during a national crisis where everyone who acts the least bit suspicious is instantly killed? Katniss and I are probably on top of Snow's kill list and I'm pretty sure our team from the Capitol have already been branded accomplices in high treason. Just because they were unlucky enough to get stuck with making Katniss and me look pretty.

Haymitch leaves us no time for questions, though, and ushers us out of the train, telling us to run. He'll be right behind us.

We start for the edge of the woods, but Katniss suddenly turns back.

''The pin! I can't leave it.''

''I'll get it,'' I say and run back to the train.

Haymitch is still there, grabbing food and coats. ''What are you still doing here, idiot? Go, I'll follow in a moment!''

''Katniss wants her mockingjay pin,'' I answer and turn to hurry to the bedroom, but not before I see him shake his head, irritated.

Just as I start looking for the pin, I hear the unmistakeable roar of a descending hovercraft. The Peacekeepers.

I'm frantically looking for the pin when I hear Haymitch yell, ''**Peeta! Get out, NOW!''**

I linger a moment longer, but can't find the pin. I get out of the train with Haymitch right at my heels and run as fast as my prosthetic leg allows me.

Katniss and the rest are waiting in the bushes at the edge of the woods. I can just barely make out her anxious expression.

We finally reach them, out of breath, and Katniss throws her arms around me.

''I couldn't find the pin. I'm sorry,'' I say.

''I don't care. You were in there for too long, you were almost caught! You're lucky they landed on the other side of the train tracks, otherwise you'd be-''

She's cut off by the sound of gunshots and screams coming from the train. There were several Avox servants and crew still aboard who apparently didn't make it out in time. Including my – Portia's – prep team. I hear her whimper miserably in the darkness.

The Peacekeepers don't even care anymore who it is they kill. Everyone's a suspect and it's easier to just shoot anyone who gets in their way rather than waste time on trials.

The power and glory of the Capitol.

I hug Katniss tightly to try and soothe her trembling body, but we don't have much time. We need to keep moving, get deeper into the woods and hope for the best. Effie and Portia are sobbing and Cinna is trying to calm them, but it's no use. Octavia, Flavius and Venia seem too shocked to even cry. To them, this is equally horrid in magnitude as an apocalypse.

Luckily it's not too cold outside. It is dark, though, and we're smack in the middle of nowhere. These woods could hold anything from wild predators to poisonous bugs that don't like us intruding on their territory. Still, we have better chances of surviving out here than anywhere else.

We hike deeper and deeper into the forest, trying to keep quiet. If Katniss thinks I'm loud, I wonder what she thinks of the eight of us trailing behind her. We let her take the lead, since she's better than anyone at navigating a forest.

We finally make camp next to a fallen tree that's covered in moss and soft grass, but don't eat yet, because Haymitch didn't have time to take much food with him and Katniss doesn't have a bow with which to hunt.

We are, however, given dark coats to better conceal us in the night.

Katniss settles into the nook of my arm and even though by now it's a regular thing, I'm still amazed by how perfectly her body fits against mine. Still amazed that, after _years _of simply watching her from far away, I get to hold her in my arms.

''Well, at least we won't have to kill each other now,'' she says.

''I could never,'' I say.

In the morning, Haymitch throwing a muffin at our heads wakes us.

''Eat up, cupcakes, and do it fast. We have to keep moving.''

''Where exactly are we headed?'' Effie asks. I have not heard her speak since we left the train. Her voice is hoarse and shaky and I feel sorry for her. I can only imagine how confused she must be feeling.

''I'm, uh, not entirely sure yet,'' Haymitch says and takes a few big gulps from his flask.

''What do you mean, you're not sure?'' Katniss demands. The rest of the team starts complaining and throwing accusations at Haymitch. He tries to quiet them by flinging his arms around, gesturing for them to calm down.

''Shut the hell up, everybody!'' Effie gasps at his tone, but doesn't say anything. 'Is your actual _goal_ right now to wail as loudly as sirens so that Peacekeepers can come and kill you right here, which they would be happy to do by the way, or do you want to keep moving, _silently,_ and maybe even manage to stay alive?''

When everyone quiets down, he continues on a more civil tone.

''Now, obviously, we have to steer clear of the Capitol, which should, according my admittedly not-so-great orientation skills, be somewhere over… there.''

He points his finger north at first, but Cinna comes and gently pushes Haymitch's arm until he's pointing west. ''Right! Now, we don't want to go there. Our two lovebirds over here, '' he looks at me and Katniss, ''are probably topping the Most Wanted lists right now, so if anyone thinks about heading towards the Capitol, you take into account that since you're directly involved with them, you'll be tortured and killed for information. Okay? Any takers?''

When nobody reacts, he continues, ''So where do we go? The Districts are out, since these are probably under an even worse attack than the Capitol. And we can't camp out in the forest forever. So, I propose… District 13.''

xXx

Everyone is looking at him silently with raised brows, as if he's just proposed we all strip naked and dance our way through Panem. Only the sounds of the forest disturb the silence until Haymitch bursts out laughing.

''You should all see your faces right now!'' he says and takes another sip from his flask, and suddenly turns very serious. He shakes the flask and by the sound of it, it's nearly empty. He makes a grimace, but continues, ''It just so happens that I was, shall we say, _familiar_ with Plutarch's little plan.'' He shoots a strange glance at Katniss as he says that. ''He assured me that District 13 wasn't completely destroyed after the war. There are still people living there… underground. I'm guessing that the other victors are on their way there, too, if they haven't already been killed.''

We're all silent again as we contemplate this. Katniss is the first to speak,

''How has the Capitol not found out about this?''

'They've known all along. District 13 was – is – known for their nuclear weapons and after the Dark Days, 13 put forth an ultimatum. They either nuke the living hell out of the Capitol, or are left in peace to live underground and pretend to be dead,'' Haymitch says.

There's a pause as everyone lets this information sink in. I can almost feel Katniss's resentment of 13 for not coming to help the other districts. They must have known what kind of conditions the rest of us were living in. I cut off the accusations that are about to boil over, ''I think we should go. Like Haymitch said, it's not like we have a better option.''

''We could fight,'' Katniss says harshly. ''Like Snow said, the uprising started because of me and my trick with the berries. I can't just hide under the ground somewhere and let others fight my battles for me.''

Haymitch almost laughs at her.

''You wouldn't be fighting, sweetheart, you would be dead within moments of entering the Capitol. You don't even have a bow. You walking into the Capitol in your nightie would not only attract the attention of the rebels; every damn Peacekeeper has a picture of you in their wallet to remind them whose head they need to deliver to president Snow. You, dead, is the ultimate prize. You're not going to the Capitol and that's the end of it.''

Katniss tries to protest, but Haymitch effectively shushes her, and although she looks insulted to her very core, she stays silent.

When the matter is decided, we pack our few things and start hiking through the woods again. According to Haymitch, it's about one week's journey. Which – as he demonstrated before – doesn't give us any directive at all. It could be a month for all we know.

Effie, Portia and the rest of the team start complaining about their empty stomachs soon. They're used to having whole feasts delivered within minutes of pressing a button. This – hunger – is an entirely unfamiliar feeling to them. Haymitch is patient with them, though, and with our approval eventually gives them something to eat. Although clearly struggling, Cinna politely refuses. I often wonder how a person like him has even survived in the Capitol.

Even though Katniss, Haymitch and I barely eat anything, the scarce food that Haymitch managed to bring with him is gone by the third day. Katniss tries to make a bow out of some branches, but without a knife to polish it and only some tougher vines to use as a bowstring, the thing barely resembles a weapon. Hunting with it is even more laughable. At best, she manages to catch a squirrel or two, and I try to pick some berries, but that is not even nearly enough to feed nine people. We cover less and less ground every day and waking up in the mornings is an accomplishment in itself since everyone is weak from malnourishment. Haymitch is the worst off, since he has the additional battle of enduring the alcohol withdrawal symptoms after his flask goes dry.

But I think he surprises all of us, especially Katniss, when he continues to lead the group on and stands watch most nights.

On the fifth evening, it starts to rain. It comes on so suddenly that by the time we find some shelter under a tree with thicker leaves, we are all dripping wet.

We huddle close to each other in an attempt to warm up our shivering bodies. I hug Katniss as closely as I can without hurting her and run my hands up and down her back.

Although the air itself is not that cold, the wind is blowing through our thin, soaked clothes and the odds of some of us catching a serious cold are incredibly high. I just pray it's not Katniss.

We did not win the Hunger Games and miraculously escape the Quarter Quell so that she could succumb to something as petty as pneumonia.

''It's dryer here. I'll try to make a bonfire,'' she says suddenly. She collects some dried grass into a little heap from under the tree and starts rubbing a stick in the middle, but it's no use. The air is too humid and after about a half an hour, I make her stop because her teeth are audibly clattering and I'm guessing her palms are starting to blister.

When the rain finally stops, Haymitch orders everyone to take off their wet clothes and hang them to dry on the lower branches.

Although it's a thoroughly necessary and logical precaution, the only thought that keeps going around in my head is that Katniss will be taking off her clothes. Not only that - we will both be virtually naked underneath the coat. I realize I have to change my line of thought immediately, or else their nature will soon be clearly visible for everyone to see.

I quickly look around at random objects; a fallen tree in the distance, the way moonlight glitters on the wet bark like tiny crystals. I force myself to imagine what colours I would have to mix together to get that particular shade of dark green.

I feel my blood start to slow down in my veins and think I'm safe, but then make the mistake of turning my gaze from the tree back to Katniss and she has already stripped off all but her underwear. She's standing there, arms around her wet body, the shadows from the trees creating mysterious shapes on her exposed skin. Her arms are covered in goose bumps and her entire form is shivering slightly. I memorize the sight, because I know I need to immortalize this image in painting the moment I get my hands on some supplies. I tear my eyes away when I feel my own body start shivering. But not from the cold.

I take off my clothes as well and crawl under the coat with Katniss. Octavia, Flavius and Venia get a coat for the three of them, as do Effie, Cinna and Portia. Haymitch gets the luxury of his very own personal coat since he's the one to take the watch again. Cinna offers to replace him, but Haymitch refuses. He claims he won't be able to sleep anyway.

Katniss is still shaking even though it's warming up fast under the coat. I pull her closer to me and although her skin is icy, my own has never felt hotter.

''It'll get warmer soon,'' I promise.

''I can't even really feel the cold,'' she whispers. For just a moment I'm astonished.

_Could she mean…_

But then I realize it's because she's already so cold that she can't even feel it anymore. I curse my inability to block out all hope when it comes to Katniss. I close my eyes and try to picture the fallen tree again.

But every time she inhales and her skin moves against mine; and every time she exhales and her hot breath tickles my neck, the image of the tree shatters and my entire being is filled with nothing but red hot passion.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

In the morning, the air feels fresh and clean and the rising sun shining through the wet leaves gives the forest a magical glow. Katniss is still asleep and I carefully slip out from under the coat. She stirs and frowns a little, but doesn't wake. I'm surprised at how okay she was with being basically naked with me the entire night.

I recall her embarrassment during the first games when I had to get naked to bathe in the stream. The memory makes me smile now, but at the time, the amusement was buried somewhere underneath an agonizing pain in my leg, hunger, and the overwhelming joy of seeing her alive and well.

The clothes have dried and the scent of the woods clings to them.

I look around our little camp. Haymitch has fallen asleep and easily endangered all of us, but I can't really blame him. He has been uncharacteristically selfless during our journey.

I wonder though, is it really uncharacteristic? I can't help but feel his protectiveness of us isn't just his obligation as a mentor. That during his brief moments of sobriety we're actually seeing glimpses of the Real Haymitch, so to say. But for reasons that are possibly rooted far deeper than any of us can even imagine, he has chosen to drown that version of himself in liqueur.

When I hear someone's ragged cough, the thought '_And we have a winner'_ runs through my head.

I turn to see Cinna curled up in a ball, the coat covering barely a fraction of his shivering body while Portia and Effie are tucked in snugly and sleeping as soundly as ever.

I wake him up, tell him to go claim some of Haymitch's coat and sleep some more while I go search for some breakfast.

I only find more berries and decide I'll have to wake up Katniss if we're going to want to eat anything today.

She's already up and dressed, throwing the makeshift bow over her shoulder.

''I'll try and get us something to eat,'' she says, not looking at me so I can't be sure, but she seems to be…_blushing. _Katniss Everdeen is blushing.

_Not that okay with it, apparently, _I think.

''Yeah, I tried that. Only got a handful of berries.'' I say, trying to suppress a smile.

She looks at me briefly, nods and turns to go, but then I remember, ''Oh, Katniss! See if you can find some healing herbs for a cough. Maybe something to make tea from.''

She looks at me , suddenly alert. ''Why? Are you sick?''

''No. I think Cinna is. He was shaking and coughing when I woke up. Portia and Effie had hogged the entire coat for themselves and Cinna was just lying on the ground beside them,'' I explain. She looks at him worriedly, sleeping next to Haymitch now. If we were in a different situation, I would probably be laughing at the absurdity of the sight. ''It's probably nothing, but better safe than sorry, right?''

She takes the coat we slept under and puts it over Cinna. ''There should be bird nests around here, maybe I can find some eggs,'' she says before disappearing behind the trees.

xXx

Katniss was right about the nests and for a change we actually get a decent breakfast of eggs and crushed berries. The only thing she could find for Cinna's cough, though, are mint leaves and he sits huddled in the coat, sipping hot tea from one of the cans we saved after we ran out of food.

By the time we're finished eating, it's almost noon. We need to get moving, but every few minutes, Cinna is overcome with a fit of coughing and although Katniss keeps forcing him to drink different herbal teas, he doesn't seem to be getting any better. In fact, he looks worse with every passing hour.

Then he starts coughing blood.

''We're going to have to stay here for another night,'' Katniss decides finally.

''It's alright, Katniss,'' Cinna tries to say, but she's not listening to him.

''It's too late to move now, anyway, it'll start getting dark soon. We need to let Cinna rest.'' She feels his forehead with the back of her hand. 'You're burning up. I don't– I don't know the right herbs for such a high fever. You just need to sleep, okay? Just sleep.''

The good thing about the rain last night – it erased all trails, even any scent that we might have left behind, so this is as good a place for a longer stay as any.

So we do. For three days.

By the sunset of the third day, we've run out of berries to pick in the vicinity and any animals that Katniss might have managed to catch with her makeshift bow are starting to keep their distance as well.

Cinna is showing no signs of improving and although Katniss is doing her best to remain calm and reassure Cinna that he's going to be fine, I know that look in her eyes. It's the same look she got when we were in that cave and she was trying to comfort me, saying my leg was looking better when in reality, blood poisoning was spreading from the wound.

Right now, that's what Cinna's entire body looks like – being slowly poisoned by sickness and fever.

Katniss is accomplished at many things, but lying is not one of them – especially when it comes to the health of people she cares about. Of course, I realize my case doesn't really count since she was only _pretending_ to care about me, but in the end, the result remains the same – everyone is starting to realize it's just a matter of time.

If we had proper medical care, or even just some actual medicine, he would most certainly pull through. But we're stuck in a damp forest, hungry and cold, with only some mint to use as a remedy. There's barely any chance.

I catch Katniss looking up at the sky as if anticipating something and I realize she's wishing for a parachute from sponsors. Or an announcement of a feast that would provide us with something we need desperately. Some sort of miracle pill that would heal Cinna right back to health. But there's no help coming.

We're on our own in this arena.

By the time we wake up at dawn, Cinna is already dead.

The sunrise is a mess of tears and misery. Katniss nearly loses it for a moment when she first sees him and starts shaking him, screaming his name – hoping for him to come back.

I'm reminded of the dream I had in the train.

There's no way of digging a grave for Cinna, but Katniss performs a similar funeral for him like she did for Rue in the arena. She gathers flowers and with tears in her eyes, sings him a song.

The forest falls silent. After she's finished, mockingjays pick up the melody.

They're still chirping when we leave the camp, and Cinna, behind.

xXx

Katniss takes the lead again and I stay a little behind with Haymitch, the rest of the team trailing after us.

She doesn't let it show much, but it's obvious Katniss needs some space. I didn't know Cinna very well, but I know she trusted him. And for Katniss to trust someone, she must deeply care for the person.

For one truly horrible moment I feel myself get jealous.

Whenever she turns around to tell us something, I catch the redness of her eyes; hear the pain in her low, monotonous voice. I'm overcome with the urge to comfort her, kiss the tears from her cheeks. I keep my eyes on her back and it's all I can do not to go to her, to hold her until she no longer resists. Until she opens up to me, if even for a brief moment.

But I know she wouldn't want that. If there's one thing I've learnt about Katniss, it's that you have to let her come to you.

So I always remain about 3 metres behind her.

Haymitch is grieving, too. So is the prep team whose ever so silent sobs reach my ears every now and then.

I realize I'm the only one who barely ever even got the chance to speak to Cinna and immediately regret it.

''How come he was so… different?'' I ask Haymitch. He seems to understand what I mean. He takes a moment to think about what to say.

'You know, not all the people in the Capitol are the same.'' He leaves it that.

Of course, I know that. But for the most part, they still hold the same values, still believe in the same power.

With Cinna it was almost as if he was from another world.

Our world.

A thousand scenarios run through my head. Cinna being born poor in one of the Districts and then running away to make a life for himself in the Capitol. His mother abandoning him as a baby and then being found in a dumpster somewhere by a Peacekeeper. Or maybe some Capitol citizen discovered his magnificent talent as a designer and couldn't waste that on the unappreciative people of the districts.

I realize the truth is probably not that dramatic. He was just born _a better person_ than the people around him. Simple as that.

At one point, Haymitch mutters something about how he has a feeling we're headed in the wrong direction entirely, which I take as confirmation that we are, in fact, headed in exactly the right direction.

At night when we make camp, Katniss doesn't sleep next to me. It feels cold and incomplete without her under the coat and I'm revisited by the nightmares that I've almost memorized by now. Unfortunately, they don't feel any less real while I'm in them.

Waking up in the morning to hear Katniss screaming doesn't help one bit.

''**Effie, NO!** Spit them out! Spit them out!''

I sit up, still halfway stuck in my nightmares, and see the real horror unfold before my eyes.

Effie's mouth is smeared with the purple juice of some sort of berry and she's clawing at her neck, trying to breathe. She tries her best to spit all of the berries out, but by the looks of it, she has already swallowed several.

Haymitch is beside her, pushing away Portia who is trying to pat Effie's back. What he does next looks so surreal that everyone simply stares at the scene with wide eyes and half-disgusted, half-amazed faces.

Effie is on her knees and Haymitch orders her to open her mouth. When she does, he jams his fingers so deep down her throat that even his wrist seems to disappear into her mouth.

Effie's entire body convulses and she vomits all over Haymitch's hand, but the moment she's done, his hand is back in her throat. This continues until Effie has nothing left in her stomach to throw up. What was left of her mascara is running down her cheeks and she's sobbing, her entire frame trembling.

Katniss goes to stroke her back and makes her drink some water. Looking at all of us, she tells us to take a hard look at the berries Effie ate.

''That's nightlock, literal death in the form of a berry. However hungy you are, you are not _that_ hungry. One of those and you can start digging your own grave. Effie, you're lucky Haymitch was here to dig the stuff out of your stomach with his bare hands.''

''See, Katniss? All that drinking comes in handy sometimes. You learn how to make yourself puke, for one,'' Haymitch says while trying to wipe his hand clean with some grass.

Effie manages a nervous, disgusted laugh and once it looks like she's going to be okay, everyone starts to relax.

Which is a mistake.

Suddenly, her body starts seizing violently, eyes rolling back in her head, mouth foaming like a rabid dog's.

She's dead within seconds.

* * *

**Oops... Two dead in one chapter. I'm merciless like that. :P**

**I hope you're still enjoying the story and if you are, please leave a review. It's greatly appreciated and helps me keep this thing going.**

**Next chapter should be up sometime towards the end of this week.**


	4. Chapter 4

_I want to apologize for any typos or missing words or inconsistencies that may occur in these chapters. I have no beta reader and although I always read a chapter three times before posting, I still miss some stuff. So, please, feel free to point those things out to me and I'll fix them._

_Also, for this chapter it's important to know how I imagine the map of Panem looks like. For now, the most important districts are 12 and 13 and I imagine them to be ''on top of each other'' on the east coast. 13 in the north, 12 directly below it. Right now, that's all that's important._

_Brace yourself for the next chapter, and I hope you enjoy..._

* * *

**Chapter 4**

If I wasn't still sitting down, I'd be on my knees. We were supposed to be safe here, in the forest. Getting out of the arena was supposed to mean that death couldn't touch us anymore. At least not like this.

People were supposed to _stop_ dropping dead like flies.

Grief. Anger. Desperation.

Somewhere, I can hear Haymitch growling ''Fuck'' over and over while he punches and kicks a tree.

Katniss is trying to do what Haymitch did before, pushing her fingers in Effie's throat, but it's no use. ''Come on now. Come on.''

Portia is looking at Effie's motionless body, utterly perplexed. I feel she might burst at any moment like a water-balloon filled up to its limit.

Octavia, Venia and Flavius are crying and their voices combine to form one continuous wail that hurts my ears.

I get up, slowly, and walk over to Katniss. Gently, I pull her hand form inside Effie's throat. Katniss makes a sound somewhere between a sob and a hiccup.

''I've got her. It's okay. I'll come back soon,'' I say and take Effie's limp, but very light, body in my arms.

I carry her away from the others, into to the woods until I reach a nice meadow filled with yellow, almost gold, flowers. Dandelions.

I clean her cheeks of the mascara and wipe her mouth. She looks pale, like dead people do, but the flowers make her skin glow golden like her hair.

''Rest now, Effie. It's going to be a big, big, big day for you tomorrow. Where ever you may be.''

I turn to go back and see Katniss standing at the edge of the woods, watching me. I didn't even hear her follow me. I almost feel bad for the animals she hunts – they're at an enormous disadvantage.

I walk back to her and she gives me a tight hug. With her face pressed against my neck, she whispers, ''Thank you.''

xXx

''Can we walk around for a while?'' she asks. Her voice is so weak, so tired of heartbreak that I can barely stand it. ''I can't go back there just yet.''

We walk around for almost an hour, barely saying anything. Words aren't enough now, anyway.

At one point I dare take her hand in mine, because I need some way to comfort her, but the moment she squeezes my fingers I understand that I need comfort just as much as she does. For the first time in days, I feel my mind relax a little.

Then she starts talking.

''I have a bad feeling we're far from finished. With death, I mean. Something that Snow said when he came to visit me keeps going round and round in my head and it's been driving me crazy every since Cinna died. He asked me whether I wanted to be in a real war. Told me to imagine thousands upon thousands of my people dead,'' Her voice sinks into silence for a moment. ''So now we're in a war and I have no idea whether Prim, or my mother, or Gale, is alive. I don't even know whether 12 exists anymore. And we're running further away from it with each passing day, not looking back. This whole war is my fault and I'm running away.''

''Katniss,'' I stop and look at her, ''the war is not your fault.'' That hardly sounds convincing, but I can't listen to her talk like that.

She gives a desperate little laugh, ''But it is. Even Snow said it was. And I feel like I'm a liar when I say I should go and fight. Because I'm afraid, Peeta. I'm terrified. I don't _want_ to fight, I don't want anyone else to die. Above all, I don't want to be the rebels' symbol, because I will never live up to that title. The first thing that happened when Haymitch said the people were rising up – I lost my mockingjay pin. Then I fail to make a fire. The girl on fire can't produce even a single flame. And then Cinna died. The person who _made_ me into that symbol. It all just seems like one cruel joke aimed against me.''

I'm silent. I know she doesn't want me to argue, to try and falsify the truth. Because at the end of the day, that's what it is.

It breaks my heart, but I know that she's right.

Just because I can't stand not to, I take her in my arms. And I don't let go. She doesn't resist. I close my eyes and for a moment it truly feels as if she belongs to me.

At that moment I make myself a promise. Whatever may happen to me, or to her, or to the world; even if she will never _truly_ belong to me – I will never let her go. Because I realize that if I ever stopped loving her, I would no longer be me, I would have no one, nothing, to care about.

So when she starts to pull away, I hold on a little tighter.

''I can't let you go, Katniss.''

''I don't want you to.''

xXx

Going back to the camp feels like entering a site of mass-destruction. The air is so thick with numb grief that it's difficult to breathe.

Haymitch appears to have calmed down and is sitting with his back hunched against the tree he abused before, turning his empty flask around in his trembling, blood-stained hands.

Octavia, Venia and Flavius have quieted down too, and the only one making any sound is Portia who has given in to weeping. Venia is sitting next to her, gently stroking her back.

''We need to get going. If we're ever getting out of this nightmare, we have no choice but to just endure our way though it,'' Katniss says.

Everyone gets up silently and we continue our journey.

At one point, Octavia comments on how the air seems to be getting colder the more we progress and it's true that although the sun is still warm, the winds have got noticeably chillier.

''I think we're getting nearer to 13. The forest here reminds me of the one right outside of 12,'' Katniss says to me.

We're peacefully asleep that night, with Katniss's heart beating against mine, when all hell breaks loose.

There's a distant rumbling noise in the air, which wakes up Katniss almost instantaneously. She sits up, listening like a lion that has detected a threat. The sound is obviously getting closer to us and just moments before the hovercraft passes right above our heads, Haymitch hisses, ''Under your coats! Do not even so much as breathe!'' Looking around, that's probably the best place to hide.

I pull the coat over our heads. It's extremely difficult to fit both Katniss's and my body underneath it so in order to cover us, I throw my arm over her and with perhaps a little too much force, pull her close against me. She throws her legs over mine so they wouldn't stick out from under the coat.

Having her head rest on my shoulder and my arm loosely around her is one thing. Having her limbs tangled with mine so closely that it feels as if we might melt into one single being, however, is something wholly other.

It's dark and she'd been holding her breath so when she finally lets it out, I realize just how close her face is to mine. A few millimetres at best. I listen to her breath grow shaky from fear and feel my own get stuck in my lungs.

This is definitely not the time to be thinking about kissing her, I tell myself.

But apparently I'm not the only one thinking about it because suddenly she presses her lips against mine.

The hovercraft must be directly above us and flying much lower than usual, because the noise becomes deafening. Or is that just my blood rushing so loudly in my ears that I can't hear anything else?

I press her even closer to me, and forgetting that we're not supposed to move, slide my hand over her thigh, gripping her tightly.

If it wasn't already hot under the coat, I'm sure there must be steam coming out from underneath it now. My insides feel as if they're on fire and yet I have goose bumps all over my skin.

It's all I can do to not make any sound, to not groan when Haymitch assures us that the hovercraft passed and we're safe.

We stay still for another moment, our lips still locked together, but then the first bomb drops at most a few kilometres away from our camp.

We're up and alert within seconds, looking towards the sound, utterly confused. The second bomb goes off.

Katniss gasps and for just a second, her hand goes to her mouth. Then she's running.

''Katniss, **no!''** I hear Haymitch growl at her.

I chase after her and I hear someone else's footsteps following my own. The bombs keep going off, there must have been at least 10 explosions by now.

I catch up to Katniss, and just as I'm about to grab and stop her, she suddenly halts.

''No…'' she gasps.

I look up and see District 12, my home, in flames.

We're standing just outside the fence that surrounds 12, so we have, as they say, the best seat in the house. The best seat to see thousands of innocent people being killed, buildings reduced to ash, the town in which we grew up being destroyed. And there's nothing we can do but watch as the countless hovercrafts, marked with illuminated seals of the Capitol, drop bomb after bomb so that the night sky above is no longer black, but glows a bloody orange. As if the sun has set directly in the middle of District 12.

Katniss started for the town at some point, but Haymitch caught her and she's still struggling in his arms, screaming for Prim, and Gale, and her mother through Haymitch's hand that's clamped tightly over her mouth.

It doesn't matter if we make any sound right now, anyway. The air is filled with screams and the sound of bombs still going off.

I would be screaming and struggling too if I didn't feel as if I'd suddenly turned to stone. I want to run to the bakery, and get my father, mother and brothers out, but I can't even take a single step towards the fence. My knees just give out and I sink to the ground.

I feel numb as a string of memories goes through my head of my father first showing me how to decorate a cake when I was 5 years old. Me ruining cake after cake with blotched images of dandelions and my mother beating we when she found out, and my father always there to shield me from her blows.

I wish I could pay him back now, and be the one to shield him. But there's no escaping the wrath of the Capitol. No shielding _anyone_ from its claws that reach everywhere, and bring down anything that dares stand in their way.

The hovercrafts leave when the sun rises, but the dawn brings no relief. Any hope that we might have had has been crushed and thick, black smoke is rising from the ruins.

It takes all my strength, but I get up, give Katniss a hand and together with her and Haymitch I find the willpower to crawl through the fence and walk straight into these ruins.

* * *

**I tried to give you guys some fluff, I really did, but it's really hard to escape the drama in the setting that I've chosen. And there's going to be more of that, but I promise there will be fluff in the middle of it all as well. Fun thing about writing fanfiction - no one's going to blame you when your characters suddenly start making out in a life-threating situation ;)**


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

I step into the bakery, or rather the site of where it used to stand, and looking at the still warm ashes swirling in the air reminds of the phantom pains I sometimes get in my amputated leg. There's nothing there anymore, and yet it feels as if there are a dozen mutts gnawing at the bone.

''Dad?'' I call out, my voice weak because I'm not really expecting an answer. If they were in here when the bombs dropped, I'm probably breathing them in right now. If even stone walls have crumbled, then human flesh was most certainly incinerated instantly.

I walk across the kitchenette where we did most of the baking and step over the rubble of what used to be the wall that separated the kitchen from my room. Nothing is left of it, of course. There are still some feathers floating in the air among the ashes from my pillow, and a half-incinerated book on the ground. I only ever had one book and it was a baking book from the past ages when Panem was still called America. It had recipes and colourful pictures of pies and pastries that, in terms of extravagance and elaborateness, didn't even get close to the cakes they serve in the Capitol, but nevertheless, it was the most precious thing I owned. I tried to bake one of the cakes in the book once, but half of the ingredients were either things I had no access to, or were simply strange-named berries I'd never even heard of.

I go straight through my room into the corridor that's walls are still intact somehow. At the end of it I see a hole in the wall where the door to my parents' bedroom used to be. There's no bedroom now. I can see straight into the back yard of our neighbours.

I'm overcome with a strange kind of sensation – there's an enormous confusion building up in me, the walls appear to close in around me and I feel as if I'm a little boy again. The feeling grows and expands in my chest until it pushes all air out of my lungs, and I try to breathe in again, but no matter how quickly my chest rises, or how much air I try to gulp down, none seems to reach my lungs.

I'm turning my head from side to side rapidly, trying to find my brothers hiding somewhere in the murky darkness, crying out to my father, half-expecting to see my mother in the doorway. I can almost hear her reproachful tone as she says my name.

''Peeta. Peeta!''

There are black spots swimming across my vision from hyperventilating.

''Deep breaths. Listen to my voice, Peeta, I'm right here,'' Katniss is saying. I look at her and see my own panic reflected in her eyes. ''Shhh… Breathe in, and now out. That's it.'' I don't remember noticing her come in here.

Looking at her – not really hearing her – but seeing the words flow from her lips finally calms me down. My breathing remains shallow and uneven, but I regain my senses enough to stand up and walk out of the bakery.

There's no sign of either of our families and we're left only with the hope that they somehow escaped into the woods. That hope, however, diminishes with every step we take, because the number of bodies on the streets is seemingly infinite. Seeing people we knew lying in heaps, motionless and cold, makes it almost impossible to stay sane.

We get to the town square and see Haymitch standing there, brushing the ashes aside with his foot as if trying to find something. He has a satchel over his shoulder which I suppose contains some knives, matches and other items we're in desperate need of. And probably all the white liquor he could find in his house. We walk up to him, occasionally stepping on something crunchy under the ash. The sound echoes around the square eerily and it makes us both flinch, but I don't allow myself to wonder what would make that kind of sound.

The three of us stand there for a few minutes, in silent respect and memory of the people who died here. Finally, Katniss presses three of her fingers against her lips, and touches the ground with them. A final thank you, and goodbye, to our home.

''Come on, we have to go. They might send some additional hovercrafts to make sure…'' Haymitch doesn't finish the sentence, but his meaning is clear enough. To make sure everyone is – and stays – dead.

As we make our way back to the fence, Haymitch stays a few metres behind us.

''For what it's worth, I don't think your family is dead,'' I say to Katniss.

''Yeah, I wish that were true,'' she says and the words are like a knife twisting in my heart. ''Unfortunately, not many good things have come my way lately.''

''They wouldn't kill your family, Katniss.'' My family, however, is a different matter. I may hope in vain that they got out all I want, but at the end of the day, deep down I know they're dead. ''If what you told me is true, about Snow blaming you for the war, then he won't kill them. He needs them –''

''To get to me. To get information about me. Yeah, got it,'' she cuts me off. Her voice is completely void of any emotion and seems to echo as she speaks, as if she were completely hollow inside. The most important people to her in the entire world are either dead or being tortured, her home is gone, the country is at war and she honestly believes it's all because of her.

''Katniss…'' I say apologetically.

''It's okay, Peeta. You don't have to say anything. You've lost just as much as I have; it's not your job to comfort me.''

''Yeah, I know it's not my job. And yes, I have lost a lot, like you. I know what it feels like. That's exactly why I wish you'd let me be here for you,'' I say, and she opens her mouth to reply, but before she can say anything I turn away and put some distance between us. This conversation was headed in a bad direction and I'm not quite strong enough at the moment to start an argument with Katniss. I know it's not fair of me to pressure her like this, but I wish she'd realize how much we can help each other.

I don't go straight to the camp, but walk around in circles for a while. Perhaps it's from the icy morning air, but I've never felt this cold in my entire life. Not during the harshest of winters at home, not in the cave in the arena with a raging fever. Not even when I realized that everything Katniss said and did during the games last year, was all an act. Although I suppose that one gets pretty close.

The weather is cloudy and the mist floating above the ground looks like a blanket that's too scared to touch the ground.

I find nightlock berries on the ground and pick them up, making a mental note not to touch my mouth or face with my hands. Taking a bigger leaf, I crush the berries on it until the purple juice covers the leaf. I wipe a larger rock clean of dirt and moss, and dipping a straw in the nightlock juice, I start painting.

The image is by no means perfect, because drawing lines with a straw is not exactly easy, but doing it calms me, and I feel it's necessary to somehow commemorate my family. I carefully trace the shape of my fathers jaw, my brother Zane's smile, and the arch of Blythe's ever-raised left eyebrow, and capture the pride in my mother's eyes. The pride that I only ever witnessed once, when she first spotted Katniss get off the train after we'd won the games. But I feel painting her like this is the right thing to do. She wasn't a bad person by any means, she was simply hardened by life, and felt like doing the same to me, Zane and Blythe was essential for our survival. Doing that in District 12 was no child's play – she knew it and she did her best to prepare us for when she and father were no longer around.

In reality, there's no real way to prepare a child for that. No matter how thick the skin, the death of one's parents will cut through it like a knife through warm butter.

Well, at the moment, I felt like there were at least ten knifes piercing my skin at once.

When I'm done, I step back and look at the picture. I can barely believe it when I feel the first drops of rain on my face. The whole picture is washed away within minutes. For a moment I get so angry at the weather that I look up at the sky through squinted eyes and scream at the top of my lungs, ''**Fuck you!''** I've sworn perhaps twice in my entire life, but right now, I feel my outburst at whoever decided _now_ was a good time for a quick downpour, is entirely justified. I grab some wet moss from the ground and clean my hands with more ferocity than is probably needed.

I turn around to get back to the campsite, and get a strange sense of déjà vu when I look up to see Katniss standing three or four metres away from me. How on earth do I never hear her sneak up like that?

Her face and hair are wet, and I wouldn't be able to tell she's crying if her eyes weren't so red.

''The picture was beautiful. While it lasted…'' she says – or whispers, rather.

''Thanks.''

She gives me a hug and then kisses me, the hotness of her lips, and tongue, contrasting against her icy skin. My hands, constantly warm no matter the temperature outside, make her shiver and I slide them up the sides of her neck until I'm cupping her face. She pulls me closer to her, and forgetting for the moment the horrors of this morning, I start walking forward, never breaking contact with her lips, until she's backed onto a tree. I press my hips against her and feel all the blood in my body rush down as she gasps and I kiss her with more passion and gentle violence.

Our clothes are soaked from rain and the feeling of them against my skin is beyond annoying. If I weren't so concerned that she'll catch a cold, I'd rip the shirt off her back just to feel her skin against mine.

I run my hand down the side of her body, until I reach the hem of her jacket and reach my hand underneath it. Cupping her breast, I run my thumb over her nipple and my lips curl in pure animal desire when she softly moans against my mouth.

I reach my other hand behind her neck and pull her mouth closer to my mine. But as I do that, I realize that I have to either stop now, or there will be no going back. As much as I want to keep going, I know that doing this in the pouring rain against a tree, driven by grief and afraid for our lives, is not how I want it to happen.

So I pull away and rest my forehead against hers as we catch our breath. Then, as the heat that built up between our bodies slowly fades and she starts shivering, we walk back to the campsite.

Which is empty.

''Wha—?'' I start.

''Where are they?'' Katniss is equally confused. I shrug and shake my head, perplexed.

''Maybe they ran away when we were in 12 and Haymitch went to find them?'' I suggest, although even as I say it, I know how improbable that is.. Portia and the prep team wouldn't survive a day in the woods without us and they know it, too.

'They were here before I left to come and find you. Portia was upset that we abandoned them like that and the prep team was absolutely hysterical from fear, but Haymitch calmed them down. They seemed fine when I left, there's no way they ran away. You don't think…'' She looks at me, horrified.

The Capitol. Could they have seen us in 12 and followed us back to the camp?

I glance around anxiously, looking for any evidence of struggle. There's nothing – even if there was before we got here, the pouring rain has erased all signs of anyone ever being here. Even the coats are gone.

''Haymitch!'' Katniss hisses. Only silence and the sound of rain beating against leaves is the answer. Then, looking at me, she asks, ''Should we split up?''

''No way. I'm not letting you out of my sight.''

We start looking for them with Katniss leading the way, every now and then calling out names in frustration, before remembering that we should stay as quiet as possible. The rain lessens after a few hours, but the muddy ground proves harder to stomp through than an actual swamp. Every now and then one of us slips and falls face-first in the mud – me much more frequently than her – until we're absolutely exhausted and our legs can no longer carry us. I'm starving, but the weather has driven all the animals to seek shelter; Katniss couldn't hunt even if she had the energy.

It's no longer pouring, but the rain is still persistent and sleeping without something to cover us is out of the question.

''We have to get some sleep. We have no chance of finding them at night, starved and tired as we are. There's a small shack in the woods not too far from here. It won't be warm in there, but at least it has a roof,'' says Katniss.

''How come you didn't recognise where we were last night?'' I ask. I always thought she knew the woods that surrounded 12 like the back of her hand.

''I did. Sort of. I did say they remind me of the forest right outside of 12, but we were just barely out of my regular hunting territory. We must have strayed a bit off course; I didn't think we'd pass 12 so closely so I didn't make the connection. But the moment I heard the bombs drop…'' she trails off, but then in a firm voice says, ''Come on.''

After I fall for what must be the tenth time, she takes my hand to keep me balanced. I blame my prosthetic leg, to which she replies with a snort, ''Yeah, right. It's the Capitol's perfectly crafted leg that's the problem.''

xXx

The shack is cold and musty, but it's the best accommodation we've had in over a week. Katniss manages to make a small fire in the half-decayed fireplace from what little dry firewood I could find, but it certainly won't last through the night.

We curl up in front of the fire, most of our wet clothes taken off and sprawled out on the floor to dry. We leave our shirts on though, since being entirely naked on the cold floor would be a death sentence, although to say that the damp shirts keep us warm would be the overstatement of the year. We both start shivering soon and I pull Katniss closer to me for warmth. Somehow, after a light kiss on the lips from Katniss, I manage to fall into a restless sleep filled with images from my childhood, and of burning walls and silent mockingjays, and most prominently of huge, growling mutt dogs with hauntingly familiar green eyes.

* * *

**I hope you liked this chapter, and I hope a week is not too long a pause between chapters. University started and I'm afraid I won't be able to update more often than once week. Nevertheless, I intend to keep you on your toes throughout this story, and if you're enjoying it, then let me know - reading reviews is incredibly fun and always makes me eager to update :) **

**Have great weekend, everyone!**


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